


Beautiful Tears

by Fri3ndlyfir3s



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Pre-The Final Problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 16:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20969801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fri3ndlyfir3s/pseuds/Fri3ndlyfir3s
Summary: Feelings of past grief and loss stop for no one, even when said person has no idea who they have loss.





	Beautiful Tears

The night it happened London seemed quite, the whole of Baker Street nearly suffocating under the thick blanket of snow, while the Christmas lights dangling off of other buildings danced in the light breeze.   
Their own lights that hung around the lounge windows created a sort of mystical portal to the outsider world, that made the detective standing at the window feel even more alone.

A minute to the witching hour was when the door to the ex-Army man, and only consulting Doctor in the whole of London opened his bedroom door.   
That was good, as to the Detective, he was sure the Doctor was the only man who could ever provide him with any sense of fullness.

He sensed his eyes first, scanning his slender figure. He was wearing nothing but his newly gifted fluffy blue robes he'd opened just a few hours before.  
The doctor had introduced him to the new tradition, on Christmas Eve, to open a single gift.   
"It's to relieve some of the anticipation for the big day." The consulting-Doctor explained. "I'm really surprised you didn't do this when you where younger!" He laughed.  
"Well mummy always did love to torture us, as it seemed." He had replied.

Now he had took a few steps closer, shifting his weight and digging a light fist into his eye to relieve some of the sleep that was calling him back.   
"Sherlock?" He asked, quietly. Practically blinded by the only lights in the room shining around his flat mate, making the Detectives edges glow angelicly.   
"Are you alright?" 

The Detective hadn't noticed his shoulders shuddering, let alone the way his throat released a whispered sob at the question, he simply adjusted his robes snuggly.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and a light pressure prompted him to turn and face him. 

What greeted the Doctor was the most delicate tears he had ever witnessed. They shimered with the Christmas lights and fell in perfect beautiful streams down the detectives soft pale cheeks.   
The pools, ever-growing, in his Oceanic eyes emphasised the colour of the irises. The puffiness around them barely visible in the lack of light.

"I..." the Detective began, breath quivering "feel as if I've lost someone very dear to me." Another shudder, and the Detective nearly collapsed in on himself, if it hadn't been for the Doctor who held him gently in his arms.

"Let's get you to bed, love." Said the smaller man. 

In the grasp of the Doctor's hand, Sherlock allowed himself to be carried off to his flatmates room by the only person he'd ever truly trusted, the one he was surely, absalutely positively certain could never hurt him, would never leave.  
Atleast this is what he hoped, hoped with all of his soul and might... or else the engagement-ring that shimmered on the Doctor's hand was a waste of profits, and a waste of a good Christmas Eve gift.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when Viktor Nikiforov cried in YOI, yeah, I headcanon Sherlock cries like that.
> 
> Hydrate and Enjoy!


End file.
